


What Comes After Tea Leaves

by chattrekisses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Divination, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, It gets a little frisky, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Marauders' Era, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 14:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chattrekisses/pseuds/chattrekisses
Summary: “Padfoot’s in love!” James cackled, delighted. “Who’s the lucky bird, Pads?”Sirius' tea leaves say that he is in love. He disagrees very strongly. He would certainly know if he was in love, wouldn't he?





	What Comes After Tea Leaves

           “Padfoot’s in love!” James cackled, delighted. “Who’s the lucky bird, Pads?”

 

           “Are you mental?” Sirius exclaimed, wrestling the tea cup back from James. Sure enough, the dregs of tea leaves at the bottom of the porcelain cup were arranged in what their textbook,  _ Unfogging the Future  _ by Cassandra Vablatsky, proclaimed to be a clear sign of love. “This must be wrong.”

 

           “Maybe you’re looking at it upside-down,” Calmly, Remus plucked the offending cup from Sirius’s hands and started to dissect it. “Hmm.”

 

           “What?” Sirius asked, leaning forward over the velvet tablecloth of the divination table. Him, Remus, and Sirius were huddled around the tiny table, attempting to read tea leaves. Behind them sat the cowering Peter, who was being told off rather loudly by Marlene McKinnon for knocking her cup over and spilling the tea leaves. 

 

           “While I’m not exactly excited to agree with this cabbage here, he seems to be right,” Remus said, amber eyes flicking from the tea cup to the matching illustration in his textbook. 

 

           “Hey!” James protested. “That’s utter and complete pants! I’ll have you know that I got perfectly adequate marks on McGonagall’s last exam. I am a highly intelligent individual! I am not a cabbage!”

 

           “This is ridiculous,” Sirius said, poking at his tea leaves. “I’m not in love. I think I’d know if I was in love.”

 

           “Not necessarily,” Remus pointed out. “I mean, it is possible that you wouldn’t know, Pads.”

 

           “Exactly!” James interjected. “Evans is obviously as in love with me as I am with her. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

 

           “Prongs, the last time she saw you she flipped you the bird,” Remus said.

 

           “ _ She just doesn’t know it yet _ ,” James hissed. “Anyway, my turn! Read my future!”

 

           James thrust his cup at Remus, who quickly flipped the cup upside-down, causing all the tea leaves to plop rather disgustingly in a puddle on the table. Remus inspected the leaves mockingly, “I don’t know, Prongs, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this configuration of leaves before… what are your thoughts, Pads?”

 

           “Why, Moony, I don’t know…” Sirius grinned, getting into the act. “I think it means  _ fuck all _ .”

 

           “In my professional opinion, I’d have to agree. Prongs, your future officially means  _ fuck all _ ,” Remus stated resolutely.

 

           James gaped for a moment before nodding tersely. “I hate you both,” He collected his teacup and went off to Peter’s table, cutting off Marlene’s tirade, and plopped down. “Wormtail, I insist you divine my fortune. I have great confidence that you will not disrespect this sacred art as my colleagues did.” He said crisply, shooting daggers with his eyes at Remus and Sirius’ table. Peter, sweaty and grateful to be free of Marlene’s disapproval, took the cup from James and began to inspect the remaining leaves diligently. 

 

           Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus attempted to choke down their laughter. Sirius often forgot how wry Remus could be, and he found he rather enjoyed this little-seen side of him. The laughter made Remus’s eyes warmer, and a dimple would appear on his right cheek, outlined by a scar. His eyebrows pulled together and his nose would wrinkle funnily. It was a lovely sight, quite refreshing when put in contrast with Remus’s usual politely bemused expression. 

 

           “You have a nice laugh, Lupin,” Sirius pointed out.

 

           The corners of Remus’s mouth curled, and Sirius could tell he didn’t believe him. “Oh, bugger off.”

 

           “I’m serious.”

 

           “You’re always Sirius,” Remus said. 

 

           Sirius smirked. “Oh, you must be awful chuffed with yourself, thinking of that one.”

 

           “I am rather clever,” Remus offered. Before Sirius could reply, Remus had picked up the tea cup again. “Divination is a funny thing, isn’t it? Really depends if you believe in it, yeah? Knowing your future, or too much about yourself can be strange. But this does say you’re in love, Sirius, or at least that you will be soon. Honestly though, it could all just be rubbish, so only put weight on it if you want too.”

 

           Sirius decided he liked it when Remus called him Sirius. It wasn’t bitter like how his family said it, or alight with mischief and memories like how James did. Remus pronounced every syllable like it was precious, like it was special. No one had done that before. 

 

           “Thanks, Remus,” Sirius said, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

 

           Remus’s cheeks pinked at Sirius’s usage of his real name, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right, well, after we read our tea leaves, we’re supposed to read this chapter…”

 

           Remus’s words blurred in Sirius’s ears as he continued speaking, pausing only to point out diagrams and important thing to note in the book. Sirius watched Remus as he spoke, drawing patterns between Remus’s scars with his eyes.

* * *

 

           “Hey Peter, did you know?” James paused for effect. “Padfoot’s in  _ loveeeeeee _ ,” He drawled.

           Peter spat up a little bit of his soup, and it dribbled weakly down his chin. “O-Oh, really? That’s… that’s nice?” He offered, tentatively.

           “I’m not in love,” Sirius said, swirling the liquid in his goblet around. 

           “Huh?” Peter squeaked, turning a little red in confusion. Remus wiped up the soup-spit from his chin before explaining.

           “Sirius’s tea leaves say that he’s in love,” Remus said, refolding his linen napkin and placing it on his lap.

 

           “I maintain my belief that I would only be in love if I knew I was in love,” Sirius stated. “Why are we still talking about this? I thought we were discussing business.”

 

           “And by business, do you mean your frankly appallingly thought-out plan to make Snape fall down the stairs?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow.

 

           “Yes, exactly, business,” Sirius said.

 

           “I think it’s a little dull,” James commented. “Are we not above making Snivellus fall? Seems a little juvenile.”

 

           “I don’t see why we need to involve potion-making in this either,” Remus added. “It’s unnecessarily complicated. If you want him to fall down the stairs, then just push him,” Remus paused, considering. “Not that I’m encouraging you to push Snape down the stairs.”

 

           “See, that would be more simple, but it lacks a certain flair, doesn’t it?” Sirius sighed dramatically. “Oh, Moony, I am  _ dreadfully  _ bored. I’m just looking for something to do.”

 

           “I have an idea,” Remus said, his mouth quirking like it did whenever he had a particularly clever thought in mind. Something in the pit of his stomach burned icy-hot whenever that smirk appeared. He efficiently ignored the feeling.

 

           Sirius’ smirked veered into the territory of suggestive. “Really?”

 

           “Yes,” Remus leveled Sirius with an icy frown. “You  _ could  _ study for Transfiguration before McGonagall castrates you for never doing any work.”

 

           Sirius winced at the thought, hands covering his privates protectively, the floaty feeling in his stomach efficiently eviscerated, “I resent that, and so does my knob.”

 

           “Do you and your knob converse often?” Remus questioned.

 

           Sirius felt his face heat. “What my knob and I do is none of your business.”

 

           James cleared his throat loudly. “Well, as delightful as this conversation about Sirius’s knob is, I am proposing a new topic to discuss: what I am do to about Evans.”

 

           “You could try  _ not  _ pestering her for a bit,” Remus suggested. From his pocket he pulled what appeared to be a dictionary and began to read.

 

           “Impossible, dear Moony,” James crooned. “My love is eternal and beautiful, it must be proclaimed!”

 

           “Blimey, Moony, are you reading a dictionary?” Sirius asked.

 

           “Why, Pads, I am,” Remus answered smoothly.

 

           “What for?”

 

           “Whenever Prongs starts off planning on declaring his undying love to Evans, I read so I can safely say that I was not privy to whatever nonsense he comes up with.”

 

           “My plans are not nonsense!” James protested.

 

           Remus lowered the book and fixed James with a look. “After you decided that bribing all the paintings in the entire castle to start reciting romantic sonnets whenever Lily walked by, she gave me such a righteous bollocking that I couldn’t sleep for a week, I was so frightened.”

 

           “She noticed?” James grinned dreamily, missing the point entirely.

 

           “Oh, she noticed. And she threw a bloody mardy during our Prefect rounds when the Fat Lady began reciting Shakespeare’s Sonnet 147,” Remus said.

 

           “Do you know all the sonnets then, Remus?” Sirius asked wryly.

 

           Remus answered, his tone conveying the irony in his statement. “You don’t?”

 

           Peter spat up more soup on his weak chin, “Are we… are we supposed to know them?”

 

           Remus wiped up the soup once again. “No, Wormtail. You’re fine.” Peter spat up some more soup in relief, and this time James swept in with his own napkin. Peter was particularly out of it since the Marlene incident, if the excessive soup spitting was any indication.

 

           “How does the sonnet go?” Sirius asked, batting his eyes innocently.

 

           “Really, Sirius?” Remus asked.

 

           “Yes, really,” Sirius leaned forward eagerly.

 

           Remus sighed. “My love is as a fever, longing still/For that which longer nurseth the disease,/Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,/Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please./My reason, the physician to my love,/Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,/Hath left me, and I desperate now approve/Desire is death, which physic did except./ Past cure I am, now reason is past care,/And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;/My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,/At random from the truth vainly expressed:/For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,/Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.”

 

           Peter, unsure of how to respond to Remus speaking in meter, stuffed his mouth full of turkey, as it was the safest option.

 

           Sirius clicked his tongue, “Wonderful recitation, Moony… which brings me to the question: what the everloving fuck, Prongs? That’s bloody depressing, that is!”

 

           “Not exactly a choice I would’ve recommended, mate,” Remus commented. “Unless you were confessing your love to Snape; and if so, I applaud you in your choice of sonnet.”

 

           James went as pale as the Fat Friar. “I thought all of Shakespeare’s love sonnets were… well, you know. Not abso-bloody-lutely depressing! No wonder she slapped me in Herbology.”

 

           “You weren’t the slightest bit curious as to why she had slapped you?” Sirius questioned.

 

           Around a mouthful of plum pudding Peter replied, “He was just excited that Lily had touched him.”

 

           “Yes, well, Evans tends to distract me, what with her luscious… luscious hair,” James slipped into a dreamy smile. “It smells like cinnamon, did you know?”

 

           “Why, Prongs, I didn’t. Nor did I ever wish to,” Sirius said. He took a gulp from his goblet, the pumpkin juice heavy on his tongue. Sirius rather fancied the idea that he would taste like pumpkin pie if someone decided to steal a kiss after a meal.

 

           Not that Sirius had anyone in mind, obviously.

 

           Because he wasn’t in love, and Divination was, quite simply, hogwash.

 

           James had seemed to have caught Peter in a conversation about the exact color of Lily Evans’ eyes while Sirius had been spacing out, and now Remus was considering Sirius strangely.

 

           “Are you alright, Pads?” Remus asked. “You were somewhere else for a second there.”

 

           “Somewhere else?”

 

           “Yes, you were getting tangled in your own head,” Remus said. “Don’t even try to deny it, I know you. You twist your mouth up when you’re thinking too hard.” Remus leaned forward and brushed his forefinger against the twisted corner of Sirius’s mouth, his touch light and feathery.

 

           Something in Sirius caught. He pushed past it. “I’m fine, Moony.”

 

           “Liar,” Remus smirked.

 

           “Tosser,” Sirius replied. “Seriously, I am fine.”

 

           “That love thing, this morning, in Divination,” Remus said. “It rattled you, I could tell. You don’t need to worry about it, Padfoot.”

 

           “It’s fine, Moony. I’m fine,” Sirius insisted. “Can we please talk about something else?”

 

           “’Course,” Remus said. “Do you still need my help with those twelve inches due for Transfiguration?”

 

           “Bloody hell, I totally forgot about that,” Sirius muttered, worrying at his longer lip. He didn’t miss how Remus followed the movement with curiosity. “Could you help me?”

 

           “I just bought some new quills I’m eager to try out,” Remus grinned.

 

           “Nerd.”

 

           “Wanker,” Remus bit back. “And yes, of course I can help you.”

 

           “Fantastic,” Sirius answered. “Common room?”

 

           “Of course,” Remus replied. “I’ll even make us tea,” He grinned wolfishly, narrowly dodging the mini Eccles cake Sirius threw at him.

 

* * *

           “I can’t believe you were serious about the tea!” Sirius exclaimed in disbelief as Remus approached the cluster of scuffed leather armchairs Sirius had claimed for them.

 

           Remus handed Sirius a steaming mug. “Why would I lie? Besides, I like tea,” Remus took a sip of his own before flouncing backwards onto his seat. “So, Evanesco. What are you thinking about writing about it? McGonagall seems dreadfully serious about this one.”

 

           “Which means…” Sirius started.

 

           Remus finished, “Which means I wrote it the day it was assigned while in a chocolate-consumption frenzy.”       

 

           “Was that the night you woke me up at four in the morning shouting,  _ ‘Eureka! The witch better eat this shit up or I will make her!’ _ ” Sirius asked.

 

           “Unfortunate that you remember that,” Remus mumbled, embarrassed.

 

           “That was quite frightening,” Sirius noted.

 

           “I apologized, didn’t I?”

 

           “Well, of course, you wanker, but it was still frightening,” Sirius said. He remembered back to the occasion, how Remus had pounced on Sirius, giggling and flushed with pride at the work he had accomplished, the corners of his lips stained with chocolate. Sirius had wanted desperately to lick it off, to invite Remus to join him under the covers.

 

           Wait, what? No, he hadn’t. That would be ridiculous.

 

           Sirius snapped back to reality by means of Remus flicking him on the nose. “Ow!”

 

           “You were drifting off again,” Remus commented. “Seriously, what has got you so in your head today, Pads? It can’t be all because of the tea incident.”

 

           “I am perfectly fine, Moony,” Sirius answered coolly. “I am the epitome of cool.”

 

           Remus raised an eyebrow. Sirius tried to squash down the feeling brewing in his chest.

 

           “Debatable,” Remus grinned. “Now, to Transfiguration: Evanesco. Tell me the properties of the transfiguration and why it is important to maintain a clear view of the object you are transfiguring while… you know. Transfiguring it.”

 

           Sirius stuttered out a reply that seemed to satisfy Remus, and they continued studying in this manner, pausing for Sirius to jot down notes to later convert to an essay, for another hour.

 

           Honestly, Sirius wasn’t quite mentally present for most of it. He was too busy staring as Remus’s slightly chapped lips, the way he drew his tongue over the lower one whenever he made a point he liked, the way he bit it after Sirius made him laugh. Sirius decided that the funny tugging that happened in his gut was just because he was hungry and most definitely not because he wanted to press Moony against a wall and snog him silly.

 

* * *

 

           Remus believed that honesty was the best policy, unless the situation called for him to lie.

 

           But he also believed in nonviolence and had whacked James upside the head not ten minutes ago, so some things were vulnerable to rapid change.

 

           Some context: Remus Lupin was desperately, hopelessly, and wholeheartedly in love with Sirius Black. That was a given, finite fact. It was not up for discussion, it was not to be refuted, it was the absolute truth and had been since third year. Now, it was sixth year and Remus had caved.

 

           No, he had not told Sirius. The bugger would probably laugh and assume that it was a joke.

 

           He had told James, which was probably a worse decision.

 

           Correction–– definitely a worse decision.

 

           Why? Because James  _ believed _ .

 

           Believed in what, one might ask? He believed, however wrongly, that Sirius was just as arse-over-tit for Remus that Remus was for him, which was a ridiculous notion in and of itself, not to mention the fact that ‘arse-over-tit’ was a rather foul turn of phrase.

 

           While Remus was perfectly content just staring dreamily at Sirius and his captivating amber eyes, James had had the absurd notion that Remus confessing his affections meant that he wanted James todo something about it.

 

           Something like hexing Sirius’ tea dregs to say that he was in love. Remus assumed that James intended for Sirius to see said tea dregs and immediately proclaim his love for Moony (not that those events conceivably correlated in any way, what the fuck Prongs?). What had actually happened was Sirius continuously insisting that he was not in love with anyone, and now he was acting strangely and kept staring at him like he had caught Remus spiking his pumpkin juice with Amortentia. Which Remus had obviously never been desperate enough to do and no, that week when Peter had followed Remus around like a love-sick puppy, sending him half-eaten chocolates and daisies plucked from the green, dirt still hanging from their roots, was merely an odd, unavoidable event that absolutely had nothing to do with botched Amortentia at all.

 

           The point stood: Remus did not appreciate this new development.

 

           What he had been looking for from James after his confession was a pat on the back, an ‘I get it, I accept you, it’s okay, you’re perfectly normal’. Maybe a pep talk on how Sirius was painfully straight and how Remus should perhaps aim for someone more attainable. Instead, their interaction went a little something like this:

 

           Remus: James.

 

           James: ‘Ello, Moony!

 

           Remus: So. I thought I’d let you know that I’m a wee bit of an poofter in my spare time.

 

           James: Aces. Did you hear the score for that Quiberon Quafflepunchers game? Gideon wouldn’t tell me because he bet my a galleon––

 

           Remus: What? No. Did you hear me?

 

           James: Yeah, mate, you’re a bit of an arse-bandit. I could’ve told you that.

 

           Remus: You’re not… mad or anything?

 

           James: Why would I be?

 

           Remus: Oh. I kind of expected you to react a little more strongly. (a pause) Also, I’m in love with Sirius, have been since third year. So that’s something as well.

 

           James: WHAT?

 

           Remus: See, this was the reaction I was looking for when I came out about thirty seconds ago.

 

           It was a little overwhelming and underwhelming in equal measure.

 

           Remus made James promise that he wouldn’t tell Sirius, or Peter, or anyone about it, or do anything to “speed the progress along”, as James had put it.

 

           But he would of course break the one rule Remus set, which really shouldn’t surprise him, but it did when Remus saw the inside of Sirius’ teacup and its clear foretelling of love, particularly in relation to the moon.

 

           Subtlety wasn’t exactly James’ specialty.

 

           Even though Remus left out the bit about the moon, Sirius still went off his nut, insisting that he wasn’t in love, and if he was, he would know. Remus couldn’t help but thinking that Sirius didn’t realize how in love with him Remus was, even though he noticed everything about his friends. Maybe he wasn’t the most observant in general, but when it came to the Marauders, he noticed everything.

 

           Maybe Sirius was just that incredibly dense, but Remus still maintained that the entire situation was odd. He smelled something fishy. He didn’t like that he smelled something fishy.

 

           He liked when he smelled pine, and spicy cologne, and the warmth of fur. Which was what he smelled when he brewed Amortentia the second and last time in the boy’s bathroom by the Charms classroom, young and stupid and desperately in sticky-gross love with his best mate. He regretted the entirety of the events that followed, particularly when he found Peter staring at him in the middle of the night, drooling dribbling down his chin. Remus had refused to brew Amortentia again for the following reasons. Reason 1) Remus was rubbish at potions (proven by the pustules that Peter had grown when Remus had most certainly did not try to administer the potion in question to a tray of treats that Remus had purchased from Honey Dukes and given as a gift to Sirius. Reason 2) He was even more rubbish at ensuring that said potion was consumed by the intended party (i.e. a dreamy-eyed boy with a penchant for disaster rather than an alarmingly sweaty one who giggled until he peed himself upon seeing Remus for the first time after accidentally consuming the potion). Reason 3) No, James, he would not slip Amortentia into Lily’s tea on one of their Prefect rounds. He had some dignity left, and damn it all if he wasn’t going to attempt to transfer some of it to his friends.

 

           But he digressed; his current situation was a rather explosive one, and he was certain that James Potter was to blame.

 

           Returning to the present: “Ow! Bloody hell, Moony, what was that for?”

 

           Remus withdrew his hand, while James cradled his rapidly bruising forehead. “You know exactly what that was for, Prongs!”

 

           “I most certainly do not!” James insisted, lips curling into a petulant frown. “I have been exemplary this week. I haven’t even left any stink pellets for Filch to find, and I snatched up Zonko’s whole stash two days ago!”

 

           “No, not that, you wanker,” Remus hissed, dropping the volume of his voice. They were in the Gryffindor common room, and he wasn’t eager to draw any more attention than they usually did. “I meant you hexing Sirius’s tea in Divination? Are you mental?”

 

           “Me? Moony, I didn’t touch the tea!” James insisted. “How could I have even accomplished it? Evans sits across the room from me, and she was wearing that delicious new top––”

 

           “I know it was you!” Remus said. “It had to have been!”

 

           “What? Why?” James made a face, dragging a hand through his artfully tousled hair.

 

           “ _ Because _ ,” Air blew through Remus’ teeth as he stressed the word. “His cup. It said he was in love.”

 

           “Yes,  _ and _ ?”

 

           “It said he was in love with the  _ moon _ .”

 

           “WHAT?” James squeaked, hopping like someone had set his bum on fire.

 

           “Quiet!” Remus put a finger to his lips, sending apologetic smiles to the students James had disturbed.

 

           “ _ What? _ ” James repeated, marginally quieter.

 

           “Yes. In love with the moon,” Remus confirmed. “Which wasn’t particularly subtle or clever, James, though I know you fancy yourself to be–– oh, don’t make that face, you know it’s true–– and since only you, Sirius, and Peter know about my  _ time-of-the-month  _ problem, and Peter doesn’t see past his nose when it comes to romance of any sort, I deduced that you had rigged this particular situation because I strongly doubt Sirius would hex his own tea.”

 

           James stared at him, eyes wide for a moment, before collapsing into laughter.

 

           “What?” Remus asked. “Why are you laughing?”

 

           James wiped a gleeful tear from his eye. “I didn’t hex the tea, Remus. No one did. I think that Divination has just gone your way for once.”

 

           Remus blanched, turning white as a ghost. “Excuse me?”

 

           “I said,” James grinned wickedly. “That it seems the incomparably audacious Sirius Black is waiting for you to claim his heart.”

 

           Remus’s eyes were the size of saucers, his expression conveying the utmost horror.

 

           James frowned. “This is not the ecstatic reaction I was expecting.”

 

           Remus dropped his head into his hands. “Oh sweet lord,” He muttered.

 

           “What?” James asked. He suddenly realized that they were no longer alone in their little bubble, and he turned around, revealing Sirius, who was looking ghostly pale.

 

           “Why exactly,” Sirius started, attempting and failing to hide the panic edging into his tone. “Am I assumed to be in love with Moony?” He paused, voice beginning to quaver. “And why is Moony supposed to be ecstatic about this information?”

 

           Remus felt as if he was going to melt on the spot. Dread was fermenting in his very bones. “I’ve never wanted to not exist more than at this particular moment.”

 

           James rocked on his heels, wincing. “Shit. Well, this is an exceedingly uncomfortable situation, and I think it is time for me to make a hasty exit.”

 

           He gave them an intensely awkward salute and sidled away. Sirius stared openly at Remus, who was dragging his fingers down his face in dismay, contorting his delicate features and rugged scars.

 

           Sirius cleared his throat. “Shall we have this conversation in a different setting?”

 

           Remus looked around to find Marlene McKinnon, a textbook open in her lap, her jaw dropped in rapture, watching the exchange intently. “That sounds like a good idea.”

 

           Sirius took Remus’ hand, dragging him out of the common room and down the hall before pushing the two of them into a dusty closet and closing the door behind them. Remus paid no mind to their change of location–– he was too busy being dizzy with the feeling of Sirius’ fingers threading through his own.

 

           Sirius leaned against the door, releasing Remus’ hand. Remus found himself aching at the loss of contact. “Now, what’s this about me being in love with you?”

 

           In the light of faded light of the cabinet, Remus could see Sirius’ eyes flash and spark like coals in a fireplace, his thick eyebrows framing them. He was absurdly pretty.

 

           “The tea,” Remus stuttered out. “In Divination. I didn’t tell you all of it.”

 

           “What?”

 

           Remus swallowed. “They didn’t just read that you were in love. They said that you were in love with the moon.”

 

           Sirius balked. “What?”

 

           “You, in love with the moon. In… in love with me? At least, we assumed that, considering my little  _ moon problem _ . Unless you have an infatuation with the moon, which is much more concerning––” Remus babbled.

 

           “Who’s ‘we’?” Sirius asked.

 

           “James and me,” Remus replied.

 

           “Why… why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius asked, his voice quavering.

 

           “I’m so sorry, Sirius, I just…” Remus sighed. “I was frightened, is the real answer. I didn’t think you’d want to know. I mean, you insisted so strongly that you weren’t in love with anyone, and I didn’t know how to react if you found out that it said that you were in love with  _ me _ , and I mean–– look at me. How could anyone like you possibly love me? And before you begin on me being too self-deprecating again, look at yourself. You’re… you’re bloody gorgeous, Pads, and I’m just me––”

 

           Remus was cut off by Sirius’ lips pressing against his own, more a whisper of a kiss than anything else.

 

           It was brief. Sirius pulled away.

 

           All the air left Remus’ lungs. “Oh,” He muttered, quietly.

 

           Sirius licked his lips. “I think that was a long time coming.”

 

           Everything was very, very quiet for a moment. All Remus could hear with his own heartbeat and Sirius’ breath, warm against his face.

 

           “Alright,” Remus said, and then he kissed Sirius hard, with purpose this time, hands curled through Sirius’s hair.

 

           Sirius quickly reciprocated, eager to fight back with his lips and tongue. It wasn’t a clean kiss, and it wasn’t chaste. It was brutal and desperate, the kind that clawed its way out of stomachs and up throats.

 

           Remus crowded Sirius against the door, fitting the lines of their bodies against each other, tugging at Sirius’ hair. Sirius’ hands found his waist, and he pulled Remus in. Remus found that he rather enjoyed kissing Sirius. It was infinitely better than what he had imagined during the dreams that he had woken up with at three in the morning, left frustrated and cold with his creamed knickers.

 

           Sirius groaned, low in his throat, and hitched his knee up, hooking it over Remus’ hip, grinding their cores together firmly. Remus couldn’t help it, he pulled back from Sirius’ lips to let out a moan that echoed around the enclosed space.

 

           Sirius panted, hair disheveled, and then began to mouth along the column of Remus’ neck. Gasping, Remus let his hands drift from Sirius’ hair to his waist, working his nimble fingers up under his shirt to press against his warm, toned stomach.

 

           Remus drew his fingers over Sirius’ angular hip bones. “Sirius…”

 

           Sirius paused on his work of pressing a bruise onto the juncture of Remus’ neck and shoulder, instead drawing his tongue along the hollow of Remus’ throat hungrily. “Yes, Remus?”

 

           “I… I d-don’t think you under-un-understand how long I’ve wanted this,” Remus managed as Sirius did filthy things to his collarbone to distract him.

 

           “Oh yeah?” Sirius crooned.

 

           “Yeah,” Remus confirmed.

 

           Sirius returned to Remus’ lips, pressing a kiss there. “Since when?”

 

           Remus danced the pads of his fingers across Sirius’ lower stomach, tracing under the waistband of Sirius’ brief before returning to safer territory. “Since third year.”

 

           Sirius paused. “Really?”

 

           Remus nodded, suddenly bashful. “Since we brewed Amortentia for the first time.”

 

           “ _ Really _ ?”

 

           “I smelled pine, and your shitty cologne, and dog,” Remus said. “And I started sneezing everywhere, and you and James decided that I was just allergic to love. I couldn’t look you in the eye for a week after that, I was so frightened you’d find out.”

 

           “Are you saying you love me, Moony?” Sirius whispered.

 

           Remus blinked. “Well, yes. I thought that part was obvious, what with us snogging in a broom closet currently–– mph!”

 

           Sirius kissed Remus with renewed vigor, nimble fingers making quick work of stripping Remus of his shirt. Sirius reciprocated, throwing the offending piece of fabric to the ground.

 

           A wolfish grin spread across Remus’ face as he fumbled for the button of Sirius’ jeans. He had worked it open, hand sliding into Sirius’ pants, Sirius hot and breathless beneath him, when the door to the closet swung open and they both went tumbling into the hall, Remus landing squarely on top of Sirius.

 

           “Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw!” Marlene McKinnon squeaked.

 

           “No, thank you, Marlene,” James replied, stifling laughter.

 

           Standing above the prone and alarmingly undressed bodies of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were four extremely shocked faces. James began to howl in laughter, Peter was frozen in horror, Lily Evans looked mildly amused, and Marlene looked like she had won the lottery.

 

           Remus scrambled off of Sirius, and the two of them dressed frantically, faces hot.

 

           “This is absolutely priceless!” James cackled, smacking the shoulder of Peter, who looked as if he might puke.

 

           “I wish I had some means of documenting this occasion,” Lily said mildly, tucking a strand of glossy red hair behind her ear.

 

           “I gather all these people––” James said. “To find you, because I thought you two were a having a big fight. Turns out you’re just shagging in a broom closet!”

 

           “We did not shag!” Remus insisted. Standing and straightening up his shirt.

 

           Sirius buttoned up his on top, “Had you given it ten more minutes...”

 

           “Sirius!” Remus hissed through clenched teeth.

 

           This sent James off into another bout of laughter.

 

           “C’mon, Marlene, I think the boys need to talk this one out,” Lily smiled, grabbing Marlene’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

 

           Marlene protested loudly as Lily dragged her away. “I expect details!” Lily called over her shoulder, eyeing Remus purposefully.

 

           Remus turned bright red. 

 

           Sirius leaned over and whispered in Remus’ ear, “You look scrumptious when you’re blushing.”

 

           Remus turned an even more alarming shade of red.

 

           “Are you two––” Peter balked, like he it had just now occurred to him. “ _ Together _ ?”

 

           “No, Wormtail, we just periodically shag in broom closets,” Sirius dead-panned.

 

           “ _ We did not shag _ ,” Remus insisted.

 

           “Yet,” James said. He and Sirius high-fived, Remus let out an long-suffering sigh.

 

           “This is ridiculous,” Remus muttered.

 

           “I’m confused,” Peter said.

 

           “I’ll explain, Wormtail,” Sirius grinned. “See, I have sappy-type feelings for Remus, as is confirmed by Divination, and Remus has sappy-type feelings for me, as is confirmed by Amortentia, and you witnessed our attempt at getting together, as is confirmed by us tumbling out of a closet half-clothed.”

 

           “Oh,” Peter nodded. He belched, then patted him stomach with a small smile. “Not too complicated.”

 

           James finally managed to stop laughing, instead choosing to grin happily at his friends. “This has worked out pleasantly, hasn’t it? No poorly chosen sonnets or anything!”

 

           Sirius threw an arm around Remus’ shoulders, drawing him in, and pressed a kiss to Remus’ brow. Remus blushed furiously in response. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but it seemed different now, much more personal and close. “Not a single sonnet.”

 

           Remus smiled softly up at Sirius. “Don’t be so certain, Sirius. I may surprise you yet.”

 

           “I don’t doubt it,” Sirius replied.

 

           And with that, they headed back to the Gryffindor common room, with everything and nothing having changed all at once.

 

* * *

 

           The next morning, lying in Sirius’s bed, the drapes pulled closed, Remus asked Sirius a question.

 

           “When did you realize?” He whispered, drawing a finger down Sirius’ bare chest.

 

           “What?” Sirius replied, distractedly trying to predict the motion of Remus’ finger. 

 

           “When did you realize?” He repeated. “Your feelings for me? When did you know?"

 

           Sirius considered, “Honestly, I think I’ve known all along. I just didn’t allow myself to recognize it until now.”

 

           “Mmm,” Remus hummed, drawing closer to Sirius, the blankets rustling. Sirius leaned in for a kiss, when the drapes were pulled back rather cruelly.

 

           Harsh light flooded over them, and Sirius blinked hard, attempting to adjust his eyes to the light.

 

           “What the fuck?” Remus muttered.

 

           “What the fuck indeed,” James said. He stood, eyes red and bleary at the foot of the bed. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten any sleep.

 

           “James? What’s going on?” Remus pushed back his sandy bangs, and Sirius tried (and failed) to keep from kissing his forehead.

 

           “Get up,” James said. “Right now.”

 

           “Why? Is everything alright?” Sirius asked, eyebrows knitting together.

 

           “No, absolutely not,” James frowned. “Get up. I’m teaching you two silencing charms, right now.”

 

           Remus made a face. “What?”

 

           “Moony, I never want to hear my best mates going at it again,” James dead-panned. “If I ever hear ‘ _ fuck me, oh fuck me harder, Moony!’  _ ever again, I am going to pull a Picasso.”

 

           “A Picasso?” Sirius asked.

 

           “This muggle artist,” James explained, “He cut his own ear off.”

 

           “Why?”

 

           “I don’t know, Pads! Why he did it is not the point here! The point is, you are driving me to contemplating cutting off my ears and you've only been together for twelve hours.”  James eyed Sirius, who looked like he was struggling not to look smug. “You’re a bottom, Pads?” He paused. “I had  _ faith  _ in you, and you betrayed me.”

 

           Sirius shrugged. “It isn’t my fault that Remus has a fantastic cock.”

 

           James mimed vomiting.

 

           “Can we not talk about my cock so early in the morning!” Remus hissed. “In fact, let’s just never speak of my cock again, shall we?”

 

           “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” Sirius grinned. “‘ _ You fill me up so good, Moony–– _ ’”

 

           Remus promptly covered his face in a pillow. “Oh, absolutely not. We are not discussing this. Not now, not ever.”

 

           James motioned for Sirius to stand. “C’mon, Pads, I’m teaching you these silencing charms, now.”

 

           Sirius adopted a grim expression. “See, as eager as I am to learn said charms, I am afraid I am incapable of standing at the moment, Prongs.”

 

           James furrowed his eyebrows, “What? Why?”

 

           “Don’t blame me,” Sirius smirked. “Blame Moony and his _fantastic_ _ cock _ .”

 

           James blinked, then threw up his hands. “OH, BLOODY HELL!’

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Marauders' Era fanfic, and it honestly was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know with a comment/kudos if you did.
> 
> Or come yell at me on Tumblr (this-one-died)
> 
> Kisses,  
> Chattre


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